21 | lost

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trigger warning:
depictions of ptsd and mental health themes

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A M A Y A

"Mommy, mommy...please get up. Mommy, I'm hungry...Mom..."

I hear my son. I see him sitting in front of me, his small palm caressing my cheek. He has been sitting here for some time now. He looks scared; he is practically shivering. He doesn't know what is happening. He doesn't know that I have to protect him.

From the man who stands behind him.

He is tall, dark, and grinning at me. His one hand is holding a gun while he smirks at me with blood-red teeth. Blood oozes out of his mouth, flowing down his throat. That is not the worst though. The most horrific sight is the hole in his heart - a tiny hole through which I can see the rest of my kitchen.

I can't blink. I can't move my eyes from him.

I am paralyzed. I am drowning.

I am on the cold floor, lying on my side, my hands covering my ears. My eyes are fixed on his apparition. I am shaking violently.

It started suddenly. It hasn't happened in a long time. I don't know what triggered it. I don't know why this apparition is back. He scares me. I am so fucking scared. I can't even breathe.

"You can't kill me..." I mutter to the apparition of the wicked man. "You can't kill him. He's safe...Carter's safe."

My voice is faint, the words soft and pleading but the man stays there. His smile grows as he takes a step forward. I cringe, attempting to move further back but I can't. My body won't respond to me.

"Mommy..." Parker says, his voice carrying a frightening note.

"No...no...no...you can't come here. You aren't real. You're in my head."

More blood spurts out of his mouth. His eyes are red - bloodshot red. His steps are heavy; I can feel the vibrations his feet make in my ears. He is moving fast; his pace is increasing.

Somewhere, a bell rings. It is a shrill sound. The apparition stops, hears, then turns to me again. His grin turns darker, his blood-red eyes shine and then, he is stalking toward me faster.

"No...no...you're dead. Go away...I killed you..." I cry, fear igniting my veins in this paralyzed state. "You're dead. Carter's here. My Carter's safe."

He closes in, sprints, and stalks closer until suddenly, he disappears in a wisp. I gasp, feeling a heavy body over mine, a familiar scent that hits me all at once. It infiltrates my nostrils, releasing my lungs from constraints.

"I got you, snippy...I got you..." Carter's voice hums in my ear like a melody of a bird.

I feel him around me. My view of the floor changes. I am still paralyzed, still not able to see anything relevant. All I can feel is emptiness but that scent, that warmth. It is comforting.

"Carter's safe...He's safe..." I whisper faintly, feeling my tears making my cheeks wet.

"I'm right here, honey...I'm right with you..."

Carter's voice greets me again. But I can't see him. I can't see anything except for the space in my kitchen where the apparition once stood. I am afraid he will come back. I am still not moving by myself but I can feel my body being lifted from the floor.

My hands fall from my ears, the sensation in my body returning. I close my eyes, afraid of opening them ever again.

I am moving through the air. I grab for something and find my arms wrapping around someone's neck. He is hot; he feels familiar.

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